


stars in her eyes

by Catsarecutebutaliens



Series: trauma blues [7]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Forehead Touching, Kissing, Mild Smut, Naked Cuddling, Neck Kissing, Non-Graphic Smut, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, Thoschei, Unhealthy Relationships, it's thoschei they couldn't be healthy if they tried, minor hate sex, only low-key though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsarecutebutaliens/pseuds/Catsarecutebutaliens
Summary: After parting ways on Gallifrey, the Doctor looks for her with the burning need for revenge, but when the Master finally finds her, things don't quite go as planned.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: trauma blues [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712221
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	stars in her eyes

The Doctor had expected rage to bloom in her chest, to be clawing at her skin and suffocating her lungs with a desire to take, to destroy until her pain is nothing but a memory. It had hurt, thinking about it, like reopening a wound that was just starting to heal, and she had _hated_ it, hated the anger and violence boiling in her guts.

She had expected red to take over her vision until she stopped seeing clearly, and her head swam with bright pain. So much history between them and all she could think about in the months looking for her was the fire coursing through her veins and the blinding white light of the Matrix, how it made her doubt all the centuries she had lived through with her as her constant.

She had expected to hate her, had _wanted_ to hate her until she felt like herself again and the voices in her head stopped screaming, but when she finally looked at her after months of searching and longing, there was no fire left.

Her suit was torn and blackened at the sleeves, with tears and cuts covering her chest; bloodstains were coloring the purple fabric a rusty brown, but the Doctor couldn't tell whether it belonged to her or someone else. Both, probably, she decided in the same second her brain caught up with her body. For some reason, she was not surprised to see her standing in the middle of her console room with dark eyes and a hand almost touching the humming metal beneath it. 

Long planned words clawed at her throat and begged to be left out, to fill the silent air between them with something, anything to cut the tension that was building and gradually changing into something new. She had thought about this moment over and over again, had imagined it while looking for her all over the universe, and dreamed about it the rare times her body took what it sought after.

Everything had been possible, from fighting to leaving without a sound after seeing she was still here with her, still alive and the counterbalance to their tipping scale.

What she hadn't thought of, with anger remaining at the tip of her tongue for months and bleeding memories inside of her head, had been this.

The Doctor looked at her and took in everything from torn clothes to tired eyes, and all she felt was an overwhelming wave of relief flooding her body and pulling a sigh out of her mouth. No anger, no rage, no violence - just a freeing breath after almost drowning without her.

Her body moved on its own accord, hands fluttering over the Master's figure, categorizing every tiny detail, every scratch, every scar, before eventually settling against her cheeks, holding her, feeling warm, living skin. With their faces mere inches apart, it was easy to fall forwards and slump against her, foreheads touching and eyes closed.

Hands came up to hold her waist, fingers digging into her skin just enough to anchor her to the present moment without bordering on painful. Her breath was hot on her face.

_Not dead,_ was the only thing her mind supplied her with, and she didn't care about her psychic barriers breaking apart or the Master's mirrored relief pressing back against her own with an uncommon gentleness.

_Not dead._

The Doctor ran one of her hands from her cheek through the mess of her short hair, combing fingers through knots and tangles until it rested against the back of her head. Without loosening her touch, her forehead moved to the side, finding a new place in the crook of her neck as she remembered to breathe. She smelled like burned copper and blood, sharp and painful, but that did not stop her from breathing it in and reveling in the fact that she was whole again.

The hands on her waist moved upwards, fingers splaying across her back as the Master pulled her even closer and softly pressed her cheek into the Doctor's blond hair.

_Alive_ , came the answer to a question she hadn't asked but it was a comforting presence in her mind nonetheless. 

They clung to each other as the relief slowly subsided, and after a while, their touches grew desperate with a different kind of heat, that still wanted more than they were allowing each other to give. 

She did not remember who started it, not that it mattered either way. Everything was sharp but contorted with the surrealness of their situation, and when the Doctor felt shaking fingers card through her hair, her mouth brushed upwards on its own, moving along the lines of her jaw and stopping a hair's width before the Master's lips.

If touching the Master was like coming up for fresh hair, kissing her was like drowning, and, oh, did she want to never breathe again. Their lips moved against each other while long-forgotten memories reappeared, and the Doctor buried her hands in the back of her shirt, pulling her closer and closer until there was nothing but heat and pressure all around. Time stopped existing, everything went blurry, and when the Master tugged at the back of her coat, she discarded it willingly, going back to touching every inch of skin she could reach.

Warm hands freed her shirt and dove beneath it, nails scratching lightly over sensitive skin as she moved along the Doctor's neck to kiss and claim as her own. Her kisses were soothing while her almost gentle bites were sharp, sending bolts of pleasure through her body and setting her nerves on fire. She let her head fall to the side, giving the Master the access she wanted while pushing for more herself. 

Somehow, she managed to tear off the Master's suit jacket and free her shirt, before letting her hands wander over her lower back until they reached the front of her abdomen, touching and caressing with a need she could no longer suppress. 

There was no coherence in her mind, no thought but to take until the craving in her cells was satisfied. It would have scared her in any other situation with anyone else, but with her, there was only a mutual understanding of urgency.

The Master dragged herself back up and claimed her mouth again, leaving a trace of slowly blossoming marks on her throat on the way up. She kissed her until there was no air left in her lungs and the Doctor went soft and pliant in her hands, sagging forward and digging her nails into the sensitive flesh of her hips. With an almost frightening precision, the Master freed her from her suspensers and pushed her shirt up until it sat bunched up against her chest, hands touching every inch of revealed skin. 

While dragging her nails almost delicately across her ribcage, the Master pulled away just enough to stare at her with wide, almost black irises. The Doctor's eyes were half-lidded, her pupils blown open just as wide as hers, and she went to unbutton the Master's shirt, fumbling with the buttons and eventually simply pulling it apart with the satisfying sound of ripping fabric.

"You owe me a new one for that," the Master whispered, the smile on her lips almost coming through, and those shouldn't have been the first words they said to each other since Gallifrey, shouldn't have soothed the Doctor the way they did, but they also shouldn't have been in this situation in the first place. 

The Master finally pulled the Doctor's shirt over her head, hands immediately going for her bra next, but the other timelord swept her hands away with a chuckle, holding them in her own for just a moment.

"Kiss me again," she demanded instead, and there was no persuasion needed for her to comply with that. She opened her mouth, letting the Master in and allowing her access to do what she pleased while running her hands over smooth, brown skin, taking and taking until they were both desperate for more. Her fingers easily found the clasp of the Master's bra and she removed it with a small sigh, keening when her fingers finally touched the other woman's chest. 

She cupped her breasts, allowing herself to revel in the feeling before interrupting the kiss and moving away just far enough to remove her own sports bra, throwing it in the general direction of the rest of their clothes.

Cold metal hit her heated skin as the Master pushed her back against the console, and she made a sound somewhere between a groan and a moan, falling against the Master's shoulder and stilling. Her hands reached for her shoulders, holding on to them and letting the hum of pleasure take over her body as the Master brushed against sensitive skin, holding and grazing just long enough to draw another moan out of the Doctor before moving lower with a small chuckle.

Blood was rushing through her ears, accompanied by a loud buzzing and the sound of their rapid breathing in the otherwise empty room. She could smell the salt of their sweat and desire in the air, covering up the sharpness of copper and blood from before. A sense of clearance was starting to reach her mind, the weight of their situation, her decision, but she pushed it away and chose to press a kiss to the Master's shoulder instead, nipping carefully at the skin right above her clavicle.

Then, warm fingers finally dipped below the waistband of her pants, and she just so managed to pull herself up and against the Master's mouth before liquid metal ran through her veins and her mind was clouded in pleasure.

She pressed her hips down in a haze, seeking the sweet taste of release while distantly remembering to mirror her movements. Heat enveloped her fingers as she drew moan after moan from the lips still against hers. They breathed together, moving in what was almost a contemporary rhythm, occasionally taking to running her teeth over the other's bottom lip.

Her throat felt open and raw, and the sounds she was making grew louder with every brush against her skin. Nothing mattered, nothing existed except the feel of solid, heated flesh against her. There was a hole inside of her chest, opening up and swallowing everything it could get, taking and taking until her forehead fell back to the Master's shoulder and they held each other upright with nothing but pure will and gravity. 

When the Master hit the sweet spot of heat inside of her one last time, she cried out her name, her _real_ name, as they both pushed each other over the edge just to fall in blinding heat and pleasure for what felt like an eternity. Liquid metal was breaking apart every cell of her body, burning through her with a rage she had only ever experienced with her. The Doctor felt a weight lift from her chest and she could breathe once again, the taste of the Master's name still on her tongue.

Coming down from their high felt almost painful and they did not attempt to separate, simply pulling back their hands and leaving the other with a sudden emptiness. Sharp edges dug into her back, but the pain did nothing to dampen the bliss in her veins. With every heartbeat, the buzzing in her ears died down a little bit and the adrenaline dissipated with it, exposing her to a sudden wave of exhaustion.

The Master was still warm and solid against her and they held each other just as tight as before, their thoughts woven together.

Her mind and body were a mess, broken apart but satisfied in a way she had forgotten how to describe decades ago. The Master held her and the Doctor held back, balancing the scale they have been existing on since she could remember. 

It wasn't sadness that nestled into the small space between her hearts as their skin cooled down and the haze in her thoughts evaporated, nor was it regret. It was the glimmering spark of hope that maybe, even after all those centuries of deluding anger and pain, they could build something with each other. The hope that there were millions of stars waiting for them, unseen and hidden, and just for the two of them.

The Doctor took that hope and held it tight, burning her hand with its fire and indulging in the pain because she knew it was not going to last. Nothing ever did, not with them. Not even when the Master hugged her as tight as she could and whispered to her the names of all the stars they were going to see.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I actually wrote something that might count as slight smut. This was just supposed to be a hug and a kiss, but things kinda got away from me, so here we are. Any feedback is welcome (as long as it's with good intentions)!


End file.
